Just Forget to Fall
by Lola'sStillLOST
Summary: Kate Austen is seven years old, and seeing the world from a whole new perspective: Stuck high up a fragile tree in the middle of nowhere! This Secret Santa story has been written for The Fellowship of the New School. Happy holidays!


Here's my first ever fan fiction Secret Santa story! At the request of The Fellowship of the New School, it's a fic about a Christmas with Kate and Sam when Kate was young. Happy New Year to everyone.

**Lake Of Three Fires State Park**

**Bedford, Iowa**

**December 25****th****, 1984**

**3:40 p.m.**

Kate dug the toe of her right sneaker into a niche formed by two tree branches, pushed up and climbed just a little higher into the black willow tree. She balanced her other foot on the knot just above the topmost of the two and leaned against the trunk, hanging on lightly and gazing out at the scene in front of her.

To her left there was a glacial lake stretching for what seemed like miles, with a boat launch and people fishing on and along the cold, black water. To her right she saw nothing but trees, spotted a few people riding horses. There were no houses, no streets, no stores, just trees and hiking trails and cold, thin, clean air that smelled heavy with moisture like it might start snowing soon.

Her mouth was half open in amazement. She had been camping with her parents before, but only to family campground-type places, never anywhere like this.

She was so entranced that she didn't notice the sun sliding down toward the horizon in a hurry and the sky going a deeper shade of blue-grey. It took a bird landing in a tree nearby to snap her out of it. Then she realized it was December 25th, it'd be dark soon, and she'd sure better start back to their campsite.

Her first few steps down went fine, but as she looked toward the ground very far below she realized she'd climbed further up than she'd ever meant to. She was just at the point of hoping she hadn't made a big mistake when she both felt it and heard it: The branch below her right foot made a brittle snapping sound and suddenly it was gone, dropping many feet until it got tangled in another branch below it- which also cracked and fell under the weight.

Kate shrieked, feeling the right side of her body start to fall and she flung herself at the trunk and held on to it with her arms and legs. The trunk was relatively thin way up there, and she could just hold on, though the trunk was scratching her skin right through her clothes and her arms and legs began to burn with the effort.

She had no way to know the tree had suffered some damage in last spring's heavy ice and snow. All she knew was that now she was still at least fifty feet off the ground, and she had no where to go. The last good branch about two feet below her left foot appeared to be 'it'. She reached out for it, felt it holding part of her weight, and she almost cried with relief as she caught her breath, sobbing dryly.

"Dad!" She yelled, and her own voice sounded thin and tiny. Their camp was only a few hundred yards away, but she doubted he'd heard.

"Daaaaad! She screamed it louder. "Help!"

**Ames, Iowa**

**6:30 a.m.**

When she'd woken up, she hadn't dreamed she'd even leave the house that day.

She crept by her mother's room and heard the thick uneasy snoring that told her Wayne was sleeping it off again. She tiptoed down the stairs, avoiding the spots that creaked and sat on the landing where the steps turned down to the living room. She peered out through the rails.

Her mom had left the tree lights on and the room looked so pretty with all the red and white flickering. Every one of her presents was wrapped. Kate smiled, loving how her mother tried to make everything a surprise- even the gift that was obviously a bike. She knew the presents were from her mom: She'd learned that Santa was just a piece of fiction exactly one year ago. But since it was also the first December when her parents had ever fought in front of her, the first time she'd seen her dad angry and her mother cry, the Santa part hadn't really mattered at all.

They'd split up a week after Christmas and Wayne had moved right in. She was six that year. Now she was seven. "Seven going on twenty five," her mother often said.

She was still sitting on the landing debating whether to go back up or go sleep on the couch for a bit when she heard a door open above her head and saw her mom coming to her.

"C'mon, Katie, let's open presents," She said softly, and they did.

Kate couldn't believe that along with the bike she got her own Care Bear, a bunch of new Star Wars toys for her collection and a Cabbage Patch doll. She was just about to thank her when Diane said, "Wait, there's one more," and reached behind the tree. She pulled out a suitcase, motioned for Kate to open it. Inside, she found all new clothes that were perfect for layering: thermals, tights, t-shirts, sweaters, jeans.

"Those are for your trip, to keep you warm. Your dad will be here in about an hour to pick you up, take you camping for a few days: Your first big adventure."

Kate couldn't contain herself, ran out into the yard whooping and hollering just as the sun was coming up. Diane stood in the doorway watching her, smiling and wiping tears from her eyes.

**8:00 a.m.**

Sam Austen's '68 Mustang pulled into the driveway just exactly when he had said he would be there. Kate wanted to run outside to keep him from having to come into the house, but her mom stopped her with a gentle hand.

"It's okay," she said. Kate still ran to meet him at the door, though, jumping straight at him as he reached for her, pulled her to him in a bear hug. He growled and shook her until her feet flew around, all to make her laugh. They hadn't done this routine in months, but his timing was still perfect. She clung to him, enjoying the smells of Old Spice and shirt starch, and he gave her one more squeeze before he set her down.

"'Morning, Sam," Diane said.

"Good morning," he stood there, one hand at his side and one on top of Kate's head.

"She just needs her coat and gloves, she's all packed," Diane started to say.

"Come with us," Sam said. "We can go to my new house at Camp Dodge."

Kate couldn't believe what she was hearing, that he'd gone so straight "there". It made her heart swell a little, both with hope and with love for her no-nonsense dad.

"It's too late for that," she heard her mom say, "He'd just follow me…"

"No, he wouldn't," Sam's voice was harder this time, and a little weary. "He can't get out of his own way, let alone chase after anyone. Come with us, and you'll never see him again."

Kate held her breath during the next few seconds when none of them moved and no one said anything. Then she saw her mom shake her head ever so slightly… no.

"I'll be in the car," Kate grabbed her hat, gloves, and coat and was gone.

"I'll be right out, kiddo," she heard her father say, and she suddenly couldn't wait until they were on their way and their problems were not her problems anymore.

By the time Sam and Kate left the local roads behind and hit the highway, they were singing. They sang "The Army Song" and "They Say that In the Army," and Sam gave Kate a round of applause for the heartfelt way she belted out the "Gee but I wanna go home.. but they won't let me go… gee but I want to go home" part.

When they ran out of his songs, he let her turn on the radio and twist the dial whenever and wherever she wanted. He laughed and winced through "Footloose" and "When Doves Cry" and a dozen others, but never complained.

They stopped for a long lunch at a diner and took the scenic way the last 25 miles. It was nearly two in the afternoon when they hiked into their campsite.

Sam started setting up their tent. He gave Kate some work to do, too, and she started hauling their suitcases, bags and boxes up the short hill to the tent. When she'd dropped off the last of it all, he sent her to collect sticks and small logs for their fire and that's when she'd wandered away, her head already a little in the clouds before she ever set a foot in that black willow tree.

Now she clung to the trunk, yelled for him one more time. She was just wondering how long she could hold on and what it might feel like if she fell when she saw him running her way, looking right and left for her but not up.

"I'm up here!"

He looked right up at her voice, and she saw him mask a reaction of sheer panic with a slow, calm smile. She could feel he was forcing it onto his face, but it still helped.

"Monkey-girl, how did you get up there so high?"

"Getting up was easy," she said, didn't finish the sentence.

She saw him walk around the tree, then point to a spot down and halfway around the trunk from her.

"Can you twist around to this side, and shimmy down a little? Just hang on tight, and I think if you do you can reach another branch."

She did, practically holding her breath, keeping her eyes up and not on the ground to avoid feeling woozier than she already did from fear and exhaustion.

It took almost ten minutes, but Sam guided her down foot by foot by foot. She couldn't see him after awhile, just followed his voice and then she could hear he was just ten or twelve feet below her.

"It's okay, you're down now," Sam said, and she saw his arms up and ready to catch her for the second time that day. "You can let go now, Katie."

She was ready for some angry words, or at least a "do you know badly you could have hurt yourself," but she didn't get either. Sam just set her down, asked her if she felt up to walking back to camp on her own two feet. She said she could.

"There is always more than one way out of a jam," he said as they walked, looking down to make sure she was listening. "Sometimes there are two or three ways out. But you should start to think about them, to look for them before you really even need them. That's called 'situational awareness', can you remember that term?"

"Yes, dad," she said.

"Some people are born with it, some can develop it. The most important step is not to walk around with your head in the clouds- watch what's going on, and ask yourself how you might need to respond. Okay?"

"Okay," she nodded.

"Okay. And if you're going to climb trees, best to learn everything there is to know about them."

The next morning she woke up to the smell of breakfast cooking, heard her dad outside the tent humming loudly. She sat up and saw a long, thin black bag at her feet. It was one of the many she'd hauled up the hill, but now it had four bright red and white bows on it, the closest he'd ever come to wrapping a present himself. She unzipped the bag and gave a shout of joy.

"Cross-Country skis!" She yelled as Sam ducked his head in the tent.

"You approve?"

"My friend Tom has them, too!"

"I know, your mother told me. Now you two can go skiing all winter. It's great exercise."

"I've only tried it once," she said, her voice still happy and excited but a little more subdued. "I kind of kept falling."

"You probably had the wrong boots," Sam pointed. "Look in the bag behind you," and he ducked back out to finish breakfast, smiling and shaking his head at the next whoop of joy that came from the tent.

After breakfast they packed their coats full of stuff for their trip into the woods: granola bars, little bottles of water, a bag to carry their wrappers and plastic back with them, and the smallest pair of binoculars Kate had ever seen for 'deer hunting'.

Her dad helped her on with her skis first, gave her some tips as he put on his own gear. She was leaning heavily on her polls.

"If you ask a cross-country skiing expert, Sam said, "The whole trick is getting the right pacing of how you use the polls and your pushing and non-pushing leg: How you make them work in synch. Do you know what I think it all boils down to, though?" He grinned and she smiled back, shook her head. "Lift your head up, drop your butt back, keep pushing forward and mostly…. just forget to fall!"

He turned and took off toward the forest with Kate gliding awkwardly after him, screeching and laughing and pushing forward as fast as she could.

That night Sam made them dinner and told ghost stories until she was scared and roasted marshmallows until she wasn't again. Then he dug a telescope out of one of his bags and they studied the skies. Kate couldn't remember ever seeing that many stars at one time, so brilliant with no porch lights for miles and miles. She fell asleep still seeing them behind her eyelids, and they turned into a dancing field of silver dots on black waves that rolled like the ocean.

There would be other father-daughter trips over the years, but this is the one she'd remember whenever she thought of Sam later in her life: The year her dad turned a melancholy Christmas into her best one ever, then sent her home with new skis and the confidence to just forget to fall.


End file.
